As if things couldn’t get much worse, I was abducted from my ship by vikings over a pot of gold I perhaps — did steal — for the ever monstrous Dalic king. Stealing from the east vikings is far worse than say the pirates of the south strangley enough.
“Where do you originate, PIRATE!”
“I’m no pirate just a mear peasant trying to scrounge a living, but if you must know I hail from the Dalic kingdom of the north.”
“HAHAHA, you make Draknor laugh but how did you get this far out.”
“I had a ship until these goons sank it.”
“GOONS!?, you are so disrespectful of our hospitality, throw him in a cell.”
They escorted me down a corridor that lead to a door, this door opened up to the caves below. Presumably where their prison is, indeed I was thrown into a tiny dank stone cell.
The next day I had awoken to cannons battering the fortress, the vikings leader stumbled in and grabbed me. Dragging me to a window on the far side of the cave near the entrance receded a window, outside a dalic vessel hammering the island with lead cannon balls.
Unexpectedly one stray came right for the window, yanking my chains out if the vikings hands, I ducked tight to the floor.
With the prevalent noise of stine shattering and stone dust/debris flying every which way, wiping out the viking. Soon a band of vikings stormed down the corridor only to stumble upon their leader eating a cannon ball and became engaged. An escape plan would be handy but that branch is fruitless although the breach made a large enough hole to throw myself into the sea.
Somewhat safely I landed in the ocean scrapping my calf on some coral, sending spiking pain up my leg. Once in a lifetime you’ll see a viking fort fall, this day particularly star dust has fallen.
With the east falling to the north, vikings and terrials became one under the Dalic king.
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